A Hike That Just Didn't Want to Happen - Segment 13

We always say, "Third time's the charm!"  It certainly held true with our attempts to hike segment 13 of the Waitukabuli National Trail on Dominica.

We started off with George on Wildcat with a plan to do the hike, but joined by some other cruisers we decided to head inland up a farm track and loop around on the flatter Indian River part of segment 11.  First attempt a non-starter.

A tropical wave then moved across the island bringing with it about 48 hours of rain.  We thought we had a clearing in the weather but with rivers rushing down the mountainsides we decided prudence was recommended.  Second attempt aborted.

The day of our third attempt dawned cloudy but not rainy so taking a chance we packed up our bags and headed off to find a bus to Penville, from where we would hike back to Portsmouth via segments 13 and 14.

As we sat on the bench at the bus stop I have to say I was beginning to feel we weren't going to get our third chance either.  Past experience had us hoping to be lucky once again with the bus, but as we sat and waited, and waited, no bus to Penville appeared and no one seemed to be waiting to go there.  The bus won't run unless it's reasonably full so we started contemplating alternatives.

One of the things I love about Caribbean culture is how passionate people are in their conversations, one of the things I hate about Caribbean culture is how no-one can seem to talk to each other without raising the conversation to a  shouting match.  This is usually reserved among the locals but I had a good dose of it today with a bus driver offering to take us up to Penville for a taxi fare of 30EC.  We knew if we could get the bus it would cost us 10EC so didn't really want to spend the extra - much better spent on johnnycakes or roti!  I told him we'd wait for the bus and go for 10EC.  This immediately set him off yelling at me much to the amusement of everyone else sitting outside the johnnycake stand.  Needless to say, we didn't get on his bus/taxi, but not before we hurled a couple of shots at each other and ended up with him proclaiming he loved me.  We then watched the next bus pull up and the driver get out, sit down on the bench beside us and proceed to have an animated conversation with himself about some bozo who cut him off.  Once finished, he asked us politely where we were going and explained (told us) that we'd better to get the bus to Capuchin, which of course was where he was going.  Nope, we'd wait and off he went in the opposite direction - did he think we didn't know where Capuchin was?  About 15 minutes later he returned and as you can surmise, no other bus had appeared so we agreed that he was right and we should go to Capuchin.  An so began our day of hiking Segment 13 (backwards) and then back to Portsmouth over Morne Diable and past Cold Souffriere.

Starting in Capuchin, segment 13 traverses the north coast and ends on the road above Penville.  It's then a road-walk over Morne Diable and down to the end at Portsmouth.

The bus driver, true to his word, took us right to the end of the road in Capuchin where we picked up the 8km trail that comprises segment 13.  We were hoping for some spectacular views off the north coast looking out towards Les Saintes and Guadeloupe, and although hazy, the sun was shining brightly.

Henry marks the end of the road at Capuchin.

Catherine notes the segment particulars.

We started off along a sun-dappled farm track.

The trail started off relatively easily but once under way it rose steeply through a number of switch-backs to crest at a ridge at about the half-way point.  Although it had rained heavily in the two preceding days, the track was relatively dry and mud-free - the only slipperiness occurring on moss-covered rocks and with loose footing on the trail.

Not far onto the trail, once we had entered the forest, we crossed a small river that just below the trail dropped over a 30' precipice to a pool below.  We would have loved to see the falls from below but being right at the beginning of our trek and not knowing exactly how demanding the trail would be ahead of us, we opted not to take the diversion down the hill - saving that for next time I guess.

Looking upstream...

And then looking downstream - it's hard to get the perspective but that muddy pool at the bottom is 30' below us.

We walked on through the woodland, recognizing many fruit trees such as mango, breadfruit, guava and coconut.  The footing was rough so we had to keep eyes on the trail but it is always easy to tell when there are coconut trees about - young coconuts competing for sunlight as they reach up to the canopy above.

On the ground, fallen coconut sprouts and grows where it lands.

Look up into the canopy above and you can see the parent tree spreading in the sunlight - look out below!

We pressed on up a series of switch backs in the sticky, humid heat.  We admired the trees and growth around us, but a vista of the northern views never did materialize on this portion of the trail.  At the top of the ridge a well-positioned bench served as a stopping point for a snack.

One johnnycake and one pear, coming right up.

Sitting on the bench at the top of the ridge we had a view down both portions of the trail.

I have to say I'm pretty happy with my Keen's for this type of dry/muddy walking.  The only drawback is that on loose scree, small stones are annoying when they get in under my feet.

As we crossed the ridge, we noticed an immediate change in the growth.  On the west side of the ridge we had seen drier vegetation with fairly clear undergrowth.  On the wetter east side we were immediately plunged into luxuriant, almost rain-forest type growth with tree ferns, flowers and dense undergrowth.  This next portion of the trail also passed through the old Grand Fond plantation where once coffee was grown.  Now there is a predominance of banana and coconut in the area, with plenty of mangos for a delicious snack along the way.

Look carefully to find the trail through the tropical vegetation.

Signage along the way gives some details of the area.

About the size of a tennis ball - this seed pod was extremely prickly and with many of them underfoot, made the going a little tricky.

Lush green vegetation layered in the sunlight makes for a beautiful landscape when you don't have long vistas.

Many small plantations covered the area - the hill on the far side has a near-vertical segment cleared for new planting.  No mechanized farming here, that's for sure!

Finally, a view - and there's not much to see other than this stately papaya tree.

Click on this picture to get a better view of just how rugged the landscape is.  The ground plunged away below us to the bottom of a steeply sided valley, that rushed on down to the sea.  This is prime, east-facing farmland!

More exotic growth along the way.

We finished up segment 13 as we exited to the Northern Link Road.  Given we started the trail at 10am and finished up at 1:40pm with about a half-hour of stops along the way, I'm not sure how this trail can be done in 2 hours at anything less than a run!

2 hours - hard to believe.

We now walked up to the crater on Morne Diable where we had previously visited the Cold Souffriere.  At a height of just over 1800' it was all downhill now to Portsmouth - my heart and lungs were happy but not so much the knees.

The lush crater of Morne Diable, the wind blows on the ridges, it is eerily quiet in the bowl and the river stinks of sulphur.

Our last look back at the ridge we crossed to arrive at the crater.

Down, down, down we went back to the boat anchored at Portsmouth.  The mango trees are in full production once again so before long we had collected a bag-full to add to our supplies.  We also found a small calabash that I will cut to make a bowl and we had a delightful encounter with Martin along the way where we met his wife and daughter.

Finally, we've completed segment 13 and we have now done most of the National Trail that is within walking distance of Portsmouth.  Next time back in Dominica we will have to explore a little further afield.

Chocolate and Caribs

I love chocolate and on a little aberration of this theme, I love beer and chocolate together. The promise of Dominican chocolate and a cold Carib beer sounds wonderful, but in this case we were off to see the Kalinago (Carib) territory on the east coast of the island.

Once again we set off in the morning with Martin (Providence) for a tour to the north-east corner with our first stop at Anse Soldat.  It was still early in the morning so we weren't ready for a beer but we did take the time for a little dominos challenge.

The Sea Breeze bar at Anse Soldat - what a view and right on the beach.

George took the first round ...

... and I took the second.

A massive reef system protects this bay from the Atlantic waves -  we watched the fishermen bringing in some nets.

As we started to head south along the east coast of the island we passed through tidy little villages, each with their own cluster of brightly painted houses and each surrounded by delectable fruits and sturdy root vegetables.  The remains of old plantations still pop up occasionally but most places lie in ruin overgrown with vegetation.  The times of slavery on this island were particularly brutal so no-one is in a huge rush to dredge up reminders of the past.

Typical of the colour schemes of homes on this part of the island - each one different and creating a confectionary stand look as we drove through the villages.

The old church of what was once the huge Hamstead Estate.

Road stop for sweet island pineapple just above the town of Calibishie.

Tourist information kiosks and also signs reminding that tourism is a community responsibility show just how seriously Dominicans rely on the tourist trade.

Our next stop, and a real high point on this tour, is the Pointe Baptiste Chocolate Factory.  Well, it's hard to use the word factory when it is just one man who makes the chocolate, so we'll just say we visited his home and sampled his wares, and of course purchased some to take home.

Alan Napier, third generation descendent of Scottish settlers to the island, makes chocolate from cocoa grown and harvested right on his own property.  To say this is small-scale production may be understating it, but the results are incredibly delicious. 

A new building, beautifully painted, welcomes visitors.  Apparently the health department was not too happy with production taking place in the residential kitchen.

Harvested cocoa pods awaiting processing.  The pods are filled with dark brown bitter seeds and a white slimy pith.  You can suck out the pith but the seeds need lots of work to become delectable chocolate.  Who ever figured this out in the first place??

Alan explains how the seeds (removed from the pods) are packed tight into these wooden boxes and allowed to ferment for a few days.  The boxes were quite hot to touch.

Then, laid out in the sun to dry, the seeds have to be turned a couple of times a day.

We headed over to the building where the pods are roasted and then ground.  The machines Alan is using look almost like toys.  The roaster is on the table at the back (about the size of an Easy-Bake Oven) and the grinder is the little green machine in the foreground.

A box of nibs (ground roasted beans) ready to be added to another little machine that is like an automated mortar & pestle. The result after this stage is a smooth, creamy chocolate that is then poured into a chocolate bar mold.

There are about a dozen different flavours and Alan has labels and cellophane ready for the final product.

One of my favourites - Ginger chocolate.  We were handed a menu that included Lemongrass, Tangerine, Hot Pepper, Ginger, Candied Ginger and of course 60%, 70% and 80% cocoa.

The house built by Alan's grandparents stands amid tropical gardens with a beautiful view overlooking the Red Rocks, that we will see shortly.

Everywhere we turned in the garden, something was bursting into flower.  I love this time of year in the islands as everything is flowering and fruit is ripening on the trees all around us.

And creativity abounded everywhere - there is obviously some talent in this family!  Many of the murals were painted by Alan's daughter.

We couldn't resist so we came away from Pointe Baptiste with a good number of bars and flavours to sample.

Next on, we drove around to the Red Rocks, which are actually owned by Alan's family.  This area of outcroppings points north-east into the Atlantic but the topsoil has all eroded away leaving only the volcanic mud and clay base that has been carved into a curious landscape by wind and rain.

The view from Alan's veranda, looking down on The Red Rocks.

Martian landscape or Dominican oddity?

Have we now transported to the south-west of the US?  Arizona? Nevada?

Martin slapped a fern on his arm and asked us for the name.  You guessed it!  Yellow fern.

The wind was blowing and the guys believed they could fly - or at least just sing about it.

A lunchtime stop in Calibishie was just in time to prevent our tummies from rumbling too loudly and perfectly timed as a rain shower rumbled through.

We can certainly recommend the Coral Reef Restaurant - a bit of a hideaway that doesn't look much from the street, but this appears to be the norm in Dominica.

The water here behind the reef is so clear you can sit on the deck and watch fish as if in an acquarium.

One of the unique features of Dominica is that it is home to some of the last remaining Carib indigenous people - The Kalinago.  In 1931 a reserve was set aside on the east side of the island, much like Indian reserves in North America.  As with our experience in Canada, many of the same issues are forefront for this small population of about 3000 - poverty, alcoholism, church abuse, subsistence living, loss of rights and freedoms - all this leads to a movement that sounds oh so familiar having just gone through the Truth & Reconciliation Commission at home in Canada.  Old traditional ways clash with modern ideas and one wonders how long before either the old ways disappear or their voices are heard.  As in the rest of Dominica, local talents are put forth to provide wares for tourist stops, so we did our little bit and perused a woven basket stand.  The work is intricate and delicate, but at 20EC (about $8 USD) for a good-sized basket these people are definitely not making a lot of money here.

Woven fans and baskets, Calabash bowls and carved walking sticks were just some of the crafts available.

One of the highlights we came across, and an experience Martin was not certain he would find for us, was the building of a traditional dugout canoe.  We were driving up a secondary road when Martin suddenly stopped and put the van in reverse.  We knew he'd spotted something but rather than another interesting plant, this time he'd found two men building a canoe.

Quick eyes spotted this work-site at the side of the road.

The base of the canoe is made from a single Gommier tree.  Planks are then added at the sides, all cut from the same kind of tree and seams sealed with the tree's gum (resin).

The inside of the tree is hollowed out by hand with an adze and the boat is also steamed so it can be widened somewhat in the middle.

These two men very proudly displayed their almost finished product.

We were told that it takes about three to four weeks to build a canoe and they will charge about 3000 EC for the finished product (about $1200USD).  We later saw one on the back of a pickup truck being delivered to Portsmouth where it will go into service as a fishing boat.  Next time we pass a fisherman out off the coast, I will be looking closely to see if he is using one of these boats.

By now time was getting along and although we had not traveled a long way in miles, we had really taken in the industry that I find defines Dominica.  From the one-man chocolate production, to the farms and banana plantations around Marigot, to the fishing of Calibishie and then on to the Kalinago territory we had encapsulated a lot of daily ways of life here on the island.  Now when I look out at the lush green landscape my eye is beginning to discern cultivated plantation among the wilder habitat.  Looking up at the rugged mountains we can now see the 'population line' with farms below and rain forest above.  Martin continues to inform and educate us on the natural resources of the island and woven into every sentence is a combination of educated science and handed-down medicine lore.  

Our final stop however brought us back to modern day satisfaction and with a cold Kabuli (almost a Carib) in hand we limed away a few more minutes before finishing up back at the boats in Portsmouth.  Believe it or not, this is the local airport bar.

Seven thirsty explorers stepped up to the bar - probably more business than this bar owner had seen all day!

Henry in his happy spot?